Pumpkin Spice Up Your Life Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Snug Mug Coffee and Waffle Recipes

  Sneak Peek at I Only Have Pies for You

  About the Author

  Also by Suzanne Nelson

  Find More Reads You Will Love…

  Copyright

  I opened the door to the Snug Mug, and a whirlwind of fiery red and orange leaves blew in with me. After shaking a few stragglers from my long, curly chestnut hair, I walked into our town’s one and only coffee shop, like I did every day after school.

  Shredder, the Bernese mountain dog who belonged to Marley, the Snug Mug’s owner, was lazing in front of the roaring fireplace. I gave Shredder a hello ear scratch before tucking my cello case safely against the wall. My friend Elena Castillo was standing in line for coffee alongside her boyfriend, Brandon Jones, so I went to join them.

  One look at the crush of customers ahead of us was all I needed to say aloud what I’d been feeling in the brisk air outside. “It’s official. Fall has definitely arrived.”

  “Well, the leaf peepers certainly have.” Elle shook her head at the camera-toting out-of-towners.

  Nestled in our tree-steeped valley of Woodburn, Vermont, just a few miles from Killington ski resort, the Snug Mug was a draw for vacationing fall leaf peepers and winter skiers alike. But the rest of the year, it belonged almost entirely to us Woodburners. The Snug Mug was a decades-old log cabin turned coffee shop and gourmet waffle hut. With its creaky floorboards, woven rugs, and exposed overhead beams, it had a ramshackle coziness, and the blissful aromas of espresso and fresh-off-the-iron waffles added to the appeal.

  And the best part of the Mug? My BFF, Daniel Dae Cho, worked behind the counter as a barista. At the moment, he was wowing a customer with his coffee art.

  “It’s a perfect leaf!” the out-of-towner declared. She gazed down happily at the foliage design Daniel had created in her Flaming Fall Flat White. I felt a flush of pride on Daniel’s behalf.

  As the line inched forward, Brandon sighed, checking his phone. “Looks like we sold a record number of tickets to the Blaze,” he reported, his freckled face dismayed.

  The Big Pumpkin Blaze was a display of hand-carved jack-o’-lanterns in Woodburn’s town park. Each night from October to the end of the November, the park was illuminated so people could walk its pathways, taking in its “gourd-geous” sculptures. It was our small town’s biggest tourist draw. But Brandon was less than enthused about being one of the student volunteers who helped with the Blaze’s nightly special effects. I, though, was excited for it; fall was my favorite time of year.

  Elle gave Brandon a sympathetic smile. “A Heavenly Hazelnut Latte will cheer you up.”

  We reached the counter right then, and Daniel glanced up at us, grinning.

  “Hey, Nadi!” he said. “Any sign of snow yet?”

  “Don’t even.” I gave him a scolding look. “It’s only October.” Daniel and Brandon always caught snowboarding fever at the first sign of frost. But couldn’t they at least wait for the leaves to drop? I glanced from Daniel to Brandon. “You two powder hounds better not jinx us with snow before Saturday’s fall festival.”

  “Powder hounds unite!” Daniel held an espresso portafilter aloft like a brandished sword while Brandon whooped in solidarity.

  Marley, also behind the counter in his apron, nudged Daniel with an elbow. “Powder hounds make coffee.” He raised a scolding eyebrow at Daniel as he poured espresso beans into the large silver brewer. Marley was like a surrogate uncle to Daniel, and he loved to razz him as they worked side by side.

  “I’m on it, boss,” Daniel said with his winning smile. Daniel had such a calming effect on anyone, he could’ve turned Jaws into a harmless guppy.

  Marley chuckled. “I do actually need to talk to you, though, so let’s chat once the line clears up.”

  I wondered what Marley needed to talk to Daniel about, but before I could ask, Daniel turned to me and said, “Your usual?”

  “She never gets anything different.” Elle ran one hand through her long, blue-tipped black hair while absently practicing her French horn fingering against her knee. Elle was petite, with long-lashed obsidian eyes and bronze skin that I envied. My own pale skin betrayed even the slightest blush, and turned fiery crimson whenever I was upset or angry. Fiercely smart, Elle was the first-chair French horn at our school, a force to be reckoned with when it came to her trills and multiphonics. “You know, Nadine, you could get something besides Daniel’s Pumpkin Spice Supreme.”

  “It’ll never happen.” I was a die-hard creature of habit, and all my friends knew it. I couldn’t practice my cello without first playing my favorite D- and A-note double stop. And I couldn’t drink a Pumpkin Spice Supreme at the Snug Mug unless Daniel made it. In fact, Daniel had invented the Pumpkin Spice Supreme—a rich, creamy fusion of nutmeg, cinnamon, and pumpkin—just for me.

  Daniel could brew some of the best coffee in Woodburn, but it had only been since the start of this school year that Marley had agreed to let Daniel help out at the Snug Mug every afternoon.

  “You’re always sneaking behind the counter to mix up some new coffee concoction whenever I turn my back anyway,” Marley had told him with a laugh. Really, though, I suspected it was one of the unspoken ways Marley had of looking out for Daniel. Marley had been good friends with Daniel’s dad way back when, and had a soft spot for Daniel because of it. Plus, lots of kids in Woodburn had unofficial jobs of one kind or another anyway, because most of the businesses here were family owned and operated.

  And Daniel was a hit at the Snug Mug. His recipes were daring, outlandish, and fun. It had all started, though, with pumpkin spice.

  “Pumpkin spice is so predictable,” he’d told me on his first day as a barista, when I’d tried to order one. “Everybody drinks it every fall. And you are definitely not everybody. You deserve a one-of-a-kind drink for a one-of-a-kind Nadi.” That had been a month ago, and since then, the Pumpkin Spice Supreme had become a local favorite.

  Now, as Daniel steamed the milk and pumpkin puree together and poured them over the espresso in the special YOU HAD ME AT CELLO coffee mug he kept behind the counter for me, I thought back to how Daniel’s coffee talent had begun.

  I was in second grade when my mom left. She’d walked out the door with a blunt, “I want sidewalk cafés, cappuccinos, and grand adventures. Not being snowed in for seven months out of every year.” After that, I became convinced that if I could learn to make a “cappu-whatever,” I could get Mom back. Daniel, who’d lost his dad in a car accident when he was too little to remember, wanted to help. So, in his typical larger-than-life fashion, he decided we’d learn to make dozens of coffee drinks, to prepare for Mom’s return. After school one day, we walked to the Snug Mug to ask Marley if he could teach us, and he agreed. In the end, though, it was Daniel who had developed the coffee talent, while I fell in love with the cello.

  “Here you go,” Daniel said now, squeezing a spiraling mountain of whipped cream atop my coffee. He added three anise seeds, a cinnamon stick, and a lacy sprinkling of cinnamon. “A one-of-a-kind drink for a one-of-a-kind Nadi.”

  “Why, thank you.” I picked up the mug and breathed in the delicious scent of pumpkin, nutmeg, and cinnamon.

  “Hey,” Brandon teased. “How come Nadine got her
s first? Where’s my Heavenly Hazelnut? And Elle’s Radical Raspberry Mocha?” He pulled an exaggerated pout while Elle laughed beside him.

  “Patience is a virtue,” Daniel said, his dark brown eyes sparkling as he got to work on the next order.

  I took a slow, deep sip of my pumpkin spice latte. The taste made me think of hayrides, bonfires, and crisp autumn nights under winking stars. It made me think of Chopin’s Cello Sonata, Opus 65, and the way playing it conjured images of flaming leaves trickling down from trees. “Mmm.” I took a second sip. “It gets better every time.” With my free hand, I reached into my book bag for my wallet, but, as always, Daniel waved me off.

  “Stop,” he said. “You know you guys are all VIP customers.”

  “Aw, thanks.” I put my wallet back inside my bag and as I did, my thick daily planner fell out. Elle leaned down to pick it up.

  She regarded my planner with a smirk. “Is there a ‘Snug Mug hang time’ reminder in here?” she asked. Elle liked to rib me about my so-called color-coded life, but I loved the rainbow of Post-its spanning my planner’s pages—little “to-dos” I could pull off as I did them. “Or is there a Post-it for the Fall Formal? If you’re actually going this year.”

  “Not likely.” I grabbed the planner from her, laughing. “Daniel and I can’t cancel our annual John Hughes movie marathon.”

  “Not a chance.” Daniel grinned.

  Daniel and I loved eighties movies, and we had skipped the last two years’ formals in favor of our tradition. Daniel’s favorite movie was Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Given the fact that Daniel had once skipped school to sneak onto the set of a movie being filmed at Killington, and actually ended up in a shot, he was doing a pretty good job of living like Ferris.

  “Just you wait. I’m going to write Fall Formal on a Post-it and stick it in there.” Elle jabbed a finger at my planner. “If the planner wills it, it shall be so.”

  “Hey. Don’t knock the planner,” I protested. “It’s saved Daniel’s neck a time or two.” Not only did I keep track of my homework assignments and due dates, but Daniel’s, too. I’d offered to start doing that after he’d turned in his third late project.

  “True,” Daniel said, smiling mischievously. “But sometimes you have to embrace the unexpected to suck the marrow out of life.”

  “I don’t need to embrace anything right now except my bow in some serious practicing.” I glanced at my cello case, feeling its pull even from half a dozen feet away.

  Elle was about to respond when her phone rang. She stepped away to answer it, and I could tell by her switch from English into irritated Spanish that it was her youngest brother, Miguel, calling to complain about their older brother, Juan. Brandon stepped aside to put a soothing arm around her.

  Daniel focused his gaze on me. Like always, he seemed to read my mind. “Stressing about your Interlochen audition already?”

  “Already?” I repeated in disbelief. “The audition is in two weeks, and I still haven’t decided on my final composition piece.”

  “Nadi, you were born ready for this audition.” Daniel opened the mini fridge under the counter to get out a container of milk for Elle’s drink. “You’re the best cellist at our school!”

  “Thanks, but that doesn’t matter,” I argued. “Kids from all over the country apply to the summer music camp program. The competition is so intense.”

  I’d dreamed of attending Interlochen Center for the Arts summer camp since sixth grade, when our school’s orchestra director, Maestro Claudio, had given me a camp brochure. I wanted to be a professional cellist someday, and honing my skills at a fine arts school like Interlochen would help pave the way. First, though, I had to get accepted.

  “I started a new composition today in orchestra.” I pulled my phone out of my back pocket. “I recorded what I have so far.” I took a deep breath. Daniel had never said no to hearing my new pieces, but asking him still made me nervous. Letting anyone listen to my compositions felt like baring my soul. “Want to listen?”

  His hand, holding the portafilter full of pressed espresso grounds, paused. Then he smiled widely, and relief washed over me. This smile had won me over on the playground in kindergarten, when Daniel had invited me to make mud pies with him (he mashed the pies together while I organized them on a makeshift musical staff made of sticks). This smile had begun our friendship years ago and made me feel like we’d be friends forever. “Do I want to listen?” He locked the portafilter in place and set two espresso shot glasses underneath as the enticing, dark liquid streamed down. “Do I want to see the pyramids? Bike down Haleakala? Snorkel in the Great Barrier Reef?”

  I laughed. Daniel was dying to do all of that, along with about a thousand other adventures on his bucket list. “Okay, okay. You want to hear it.”

  Just then, Marley appeared beside Daniel, cell phone in hand. “Hey, can you hold down the fort?” Marley asked. He was glancing out the front window at a sleek Range Rover that had just pulled into the parking lot. “I’ll be back in a few.” Daniel nodded, and Marley headed for the shop’s door with Shredder close behind, tail wagging.

  Brandon and Elle returned to the counter. Elle was grumbling about her brothers, but perked up when Daniel handed her a steaming cup of Radical Raspberry Mocha.

  “Don’t worry, your drink is up next,” Daniel told Brandon before he could ask. Daniel rolled his eyes at me, deadpanning, “A genius’s work is never done.”

  He grabbed another cup from the shelf and turned back to the espresso machine. Then he froze, staring past me toward the Snug Mug’s front door, his jaw going slack.

  “Daniel?” I said. “You okay?”

  He nodded vaguely, but his eyes were fixed on the door. The cup in his hands slipped, shattering on the floor with an echoing crash. I hurried to help Daniel clean up the broken pieces, but he still hadn’t moved. In fact, he seemed completely oblivious to the cup smashing and everything else. I nudged him gently.

  “Daniel?” I whispered. “You’re freaking me out. Blink if you can hear me.” He blinked as his cheeks reddened. “Wha—” I started, but as I followed his gaze, I saw for myself.

  In the doorway of the Snug Mug stood the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. She had big brown eyes with long lashes, bow-shaped lips, and luminous brown skin set off by her purple hat and matching coat. She was gazing right at Daniel, who still hadn’t moved, as if he was under the girl’s spell.

  Who was she, and what had she just done to my best friend?

  “Hey, Snug Muggers!” Marley called from the doorway. He stood beside the mystery girl and a tall, broad-shouldered man who was nearly as handsome as the girl was gorgeous. I guessed they were father and daughter. The man wore a dark dress coat that was out of place here among the hand-knitted sweaters and beanie caps of the Snug Mug customers.

  “I—well, we—have an announcement to make.” Marley glanced at the man and girl. “This is Mr. James Renaud and his daughter, Kiya. And … the Renauds are the new owners of the Snug Mug!”

  Marley started applauding enthusiastically, and so did a handful of out-of-towners who had no idea that this was, in fact, terrible news. From around the room came gasps and sad mutterings of “What?” or “Why?” I glanced at Daniel in confusion, but my best friend was still staring at the new girl.

  “I know it’s a shock to some of you,” Marley went on gently, “but I’ve been planning a ‘rewirement’ for a while.” He leaned over to give Shredder a pat, and the dog let out a happy bark. “Shredder and I will always be Snug Muggers. I won’t be behind the counter anymore, that’s all. You’ll be in great hands with the Renauds. They’ve moved up here from New York City, so let’s give them a proper welcome.” Marley then began walking the Renauds from table to table, introducing them.

  “Can you believe it?” Elle asked. “Marley’s owned the Mug since before we were born!”

  “It’s the end of an era,” Brandon said forlornly.

  “I know.” I was gathering the broken pieces
of the cup from the floor again. “Daniel, did Marley tell you about this?”

  When Daniel didn’t respond, I glanced up to find him still in a daze.

  Brandon jerked his head toward Daniel and mouthed, What’s with him?

  “Kiya,” Daniel muttered, not even noticing our presence. “What a beautiful name.”

  “Ooo-kay. Time to snap out of it.” I dumped the ceramic pieces into the trash, then elbowed Daniel … hard.

  “Ow!” he yelped in surprise. “What did you do that for?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Because Marley just announced that he sold the Snug Mug and you’re off in never-never land, that’s why.”

  Daniel blinked, processing. “He … what?! How could he sell the Snug Mug?”

  “Thank you. He’s back! Finally!” I would’ve smiled in relief if I hadn’t just heard that our favorite hangout was being sold to complete and total strangers.

  At that moment, Marley glanced over worriedly, excused himself from the Renauds, and hurried behind the counter. He clapped a hand on Daniel’s shoulder. “Sorry to shock you, kiddo. I wanted to tell you before, but the Renauds got here early.” He ruffled Daniel’s hair. It was a gesture that showed how much Daniel meant to him, and spoke to how close they’d become in the years since Daniel’s dad passed away. “Don’t worry,” Marley added. “Mr. Renaud’s keeping you on. I’ve always got your back. We’ll just have our hang time in front of the counter instead of behind it.”

  After a second’s hesitation, Dan nodded. “And we’ll still shred the gnar when the mountain opens?” he asked.

  Marley laughed. “I wouldn’t miss snowboarding with you for anything.” Then he glanced toward the Renauds. “Right now, though, I better finish the obligatory intros.”

  “It sounds like it’s a done deal already,” I said after he walked away.

  “This stinks.” Daniel sighed.

  “Yeah.” Brandon nodded. “This new guy better be flexible. Otherwise, you can kiss your days of perpetual late-to-workness goodbye.” He glanced at the remains of my Pumpkin Spice Supreme, which I hadn’t finished because of the big news. “Hey, what happened to my order?”